


Happy Endings Weren't Made For The Likes Of Us

by Sir_Bedevere



Series: Dragonstone Days [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Bedevere/pseuds/Sir_Bedevere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I yield,” Rhaegar said, cringing away from the sword in his face, “I yield!”</p>
<p>“Too late for that, coward,” Robert said, “You should have thought of that before you stole my lady love.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Endings Weren't Made For The Likes Of Us

A storm raged outside the tower, blowing the thick curtains wildly around the window as the rain blew in and soaked the stone floor. The fire, the only light in the room since the candles went out, cast their shadows against the wall, playing out the struggle they were having like a hellish puppet theatre.

“Save me, Robert!” Lyanna screamed, struggling in the clutches of the evil Rhaegar. He had both hands wrapped around her arms, holding her close to him as though he could simply hang on forever.

“I’m coming, my lady!” Robert cried, drawing his sword, “Stand and fight, you coward!”

Rhaegar growled and let Lyanna go, drawing his own weapon, “I am the prince, dearest cousin Baratheon. I am the heir to the Iron Throne. I can have whichever lady I choose and you can’t stop me. Not you and a thousand armies!”

“You can’t have me!” Lyanna said, stamping on his foot, “I only love Lord Robert.”

Rhaegar howled with pain and pushed her behind him, against the wall. Robert, taking the opportunity whilst the other was distracted, rushed forwards and they launched into a ferocious battle, with Lyanna cheering on her love. Eventually Robert backed Rhaegar into a corner and knocked his sword out of his hand. Rhaegar sank to the floor, panting and pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. Robert stepped closer, his weapon poised in front of him.

“I yield,” Rhaegar said, cringing away from the sword in his face, “I yield!”

“Too late for that, coward,” Robert said, “You should have thought of that before you stole my lady love.”

And he stabbed him.

“Oh Robert,” Lyanna said, stepping over the dying prince, “You’re so brave.”

“Lady Lyanna, will you marry me and be my wife?”

“Yes, yes I will and-”

“What are you doing?”

The soft voice cut in and the fantasy shattered. Devan scrambled to his feet and bowed.

“My lady Melisandre, we were just playing at-”

“I can see,” she said, an amused smile on her face as she swept into the room, “But you changed the ending.”

“We tried the real one but we like this one better,” Edric shrugged, his lip set stubbornly as it did when he felt like he was being told off, “The good people win everything. My father wins Lady Lyanna.”

“I like it as well,” Melisandre said unexpectedly, “Perhaps things would be different now if it had happened that way.”

She said the last bit almost to herself and none of the children knew what to say in response, so they stayed silent, waiting for her.

Eventually she looked up again, straight at Shireen.

“Next time you play remember that Lady Lyanna was strong. Ladies can be brave too.”

Shireen nodded, still holding Edric’s hand. Melisandre was never mean to them, to any of them, but she was still frightening. People shouldn’t have red eyes.

“I shall leave you to play,” she said, turning around to go. Devan got back on the floor to carry on dying but the Red Lady turned around again at the door. 

“I will close the door when I leave, if you wish.”

“Why?” Edric said.

“Only because I believe that you should not let his grace hear you playing this game. He will not see it as a harmless game, you know. The war was still the war and people still died.”

“But it is not the same,” Shireen piped up, ashamed that her father might think badly of them if he overheard, “Uncle Robert wins Lady Lyanna instead of her dying. Mother said that everything would have been different if he had married her instead.”

“I agree with your mother,” Melisandre said gently, “I do. But your father will not. I do not think it would matter to him a great deal that you have changed the ending when the way of getting there is just the same.”


End file.
